In the Dim Light of Destiny
by Le Miroir du Chat
Summary: After a hostage situation gone wrong, Harry finds the body of his loyal friend in the manor of the Dark Lord.


With a grim look, Harry's gaze settled on the floor of the dark cell. There lay Ron Weasley. Or rather, the remains were sitting on the floor. Forcing himself to look elsewhere, Harry took in the entirety of the room.

It was as much of a cell, as you'd expect. Robbed of all but the strictly necessary items, there was only what resembled a bunk bed in the corner, and a hole that, assumedly, should be used as a toilet.

Ron had been captured by Voldemort only days before Harry found the way to his hideout. The redhead had been a part of a team composed of Aurors that was supposed to raid a farm, which was believed to hold several people captive. Fueled by the hope of finding friends and family, the team had been given orders to raze the building to the ground if necessary.

The attack was successful and many people were rescued. To the great despair of all, more than half of the Auror team had perished during the battle. The rest decided to prioritize and move the prisoners to a safe location, instead of pursuing the fleeing Death Eaters.

Among these captives was a missing person, whom Ron had been searching for in quite a while.  
Upon finding the body of his little sister, he lost his temper and began to pursue the remaining Death Eaters that were fleeing from the scene, ignorant of the fact that he was alone.

The Death Eaters soon realized their advantage, that Ron was easy pickings, and bombarded him with more spells than he would be able to dodge and shield against.

Ron's following few days were spent in the Dark Lords manor, formerly the Malfoy Manor.  
Needing information about the Ministry in order to execute a successful coup d'état, the vile men were commanded to extract that information – By any means necessary.

Removed fingernails, exploding limbs and continuous use of several potions to keep him alive soon became everyday life for Ron. Boasting an admirable spirit, he held out in hope of a rescue.  
Every day and every night was a battle for what sanity that was left in him.  
It would prove to be too much for Ron in the end.

Bathed in the dim light of the Cruciatus, Ron finally succumbed and spilled his secrets to Bellatrix Lestrange, a woman thought long dead.

Having no reason to be alive, Ron was disposed of and left to rot in the dark cell.  
As fate would have it, a rescue team arrived naught but a few hours too late.

Harry kneeled down and stroked Ron's bangs away from his forehead.  
Standing up, he spoke in a soft, strained voice.

"_Incendio"_

Closing his eyes and turning on the heel, Harry walked out of the room into the empty hallway. A faint scent of dried blood was present, and skeletons adorned the back of the cells, some more whole than others.

Going through the nearby exit, he looked around for the entrance to the dining hall, where Voldemort's body was.

It had been a tough fight, which Harry only had won through underhanded tactics that, granted, were used by Voldemort as well.

While Tom Riddle had ceased to exist a long time ago, his skills and experiences came with him, when he underwent the dark rituals to become Lord Voldemort.  
This meant that more than 50 years of experience was combined with a superb mind, power and grace to form one of the greatest wizards of all times, the bane of the brightest of the light side.

Against such a formidable opponent, Harry had been hard-pressed to keep up with the intensity of the fight, and had therefore been very close to getting hit by a nasty curse more than once.

Harry's trump card was the resurrection stone, the relic left behind by one of the three Peverell brothers.  
It had been used to summon spirits from Voldemort's childhood. Spirits, Harry knew, that Voldemort would not react mildly to.

However brief, the distraction offered had been more than enough and it had tipped the scales in Harry's favor, causing Voldemort to barely evade a Reductor-curse. Harry pressed his advantage and kept Voldemort on edge.

_" … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, __**but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not …**__ "_

Dumbledore once said that the greatest power of all was love. While seemingly naïve, it was true in many ways. Love could make one do unreasonable things that should not be possible.

Utilized by his mother in the time of need, she had shielded Harry against the most feared spell of all, the Killing Curse, a feat not thought possible.  
It had rebounded of the head of the infant and hit the caster, saving the youngsters live and ridding the world of an evil, if only for a short while.

While Voldemort had rejected the concept of love and humanity as a whole, Harry held love for many. His friends, who had invited him into their home without a thought, who had cheered him in the darkest of hours and who had held out together despite the growing pressure from the war.

Harry would fight not only for revenge and peace in the wizarding world, but for a burning desire to keep his friends safe.  
That put him apart from Lord Voldemort.

After what seemed like an eternity Voldemort's concentration faltered, and he was by a simple stunner.  
Immobilized and laying on the floor, Harry had picked up his enemy's wand and delivered the coup de grâce.

Ironic that the selfsame wand, which introduced Voldemort to the wonder of magic, would be take it away from him as well.

Looking at the body of his nemesis, Harry pondered upon the idea of conjuring a pack of rabid dogs to devour the corpse, but decided otherwise.

Humming a jolly tune, he twiddled his newly acquired yew wand between his fingers and Apparated with a crack.


End file.
